


After the Fall

by Velvedere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flashback, Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Speculation, Stranded, post season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7645198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvedere/pseuds/Velvedere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting thrown out of an unstable wormhole, Keith finds himself stranded and alone on an unknown planet. He reminisces about the past while trying to repair his lion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Fall

Keith couldn’t believe he had failed.

Not only failed, but failed so utterly and completely he couldn’t bring himself to say anything when Shiro came to his rescue.

Not that there was a lot of time to talk. They had a wormhole to get to and a fleet of Galra ships to escape. The darting red lights of fighters were all around, and behind – as he was being carried away in his disabled lion – Keith could still see Zarkon standing on the hull of his command ship, looking after them with a neutral expression.

Keith didn’t know if Zarkon let them escape or if it was sheer arrogance that kept him from coming after them. A complete confidence that he would catch them again. Eventually. That there was no need to hurry.

Keith bristled and would have offered one final parting shot as a way of getting in the last word, but his targeting systems were down. His lion’s power was offline. Nothing was working.

And his plan of getting Zarkon to attack him recklessly enough to destroy his own command ship had only partially worked.

Broken. Frustrated. Ashamed. Keith had to be carried back to the ship and inside so that Allura could jump them through one of her portals.

Then…

Then it all went wrong.

Between the nauseating drops in his stomach and his head banging into the side of his helmet as they were thrown around by the laws of highly mutable physics – maybe he even clenched his eyes shut for some of it – Keith didn’t remember seeing what happened to the others.

Probably the same thing that happened to him: thrown violently out of the wormhole in a way they weren’t supposed to go. Disappearing into a red and purple-smeared void.

Keith remembered falling. His lion’s controls were barely operable even under normal circumstances. He went spinning down towards a planet surface, burning through re-entry, the heat and blinding glare and roar of atmosphere drowning out the dozen or so warning alarms sounding through the cockpit.

He landed – hard – and that was the last thing he remembered.

*****

“Hey!”

Keith kept walking. He assumed that anyone calling out for someone’s attention wasn’t aiming at him. Even if they were, the odds were likely that it wasn’t someone he wanted to talk to. Outside of a classroom or simulation in the Garrison’s training program, Keith had exactly zero interest in socializing with other students. He didn’t have friends. So he ducked his head and kept going.

“Hey, Kogane!”

That was harder to ignore.

Also, he recognized the voice.

Keith stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder where his backpack was slung, frowning just a little as the source of the hail jogged up to him with a friendly smile.

“Hey! Hi, sorry. I just wanted to catch you before you made it back to the dorms.” Takashi Shirogane laughed a little in a pretend effort to catch his breath, setting his hands on his hips. His eyes met Keith’s with a warm openness, his smile tipped up higher on one side than the other. “I just wanted to say…I saw your simulation drill back there and those scores were amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen marks that high!”

Keith looked up to him, a decidedly blank expression on his face.

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry! I’m—”

“Takashi Shirogane,” said Keith, reaching out to take his hand as he held it out. He shook it once, then let go. “I know who you are.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Shirogane adopted a brief look of adorable chagrin before he recovered. “I guess everyone does around here.”

Of course everyone knew him. Takashi Shirogane was one of the best – probably the best – pilot the Galaxy Garrison had ever produced. Keith had seen him around the compound several times, mostly in introductory classes with hundreds of other students; every single one of them distracted from discourse by his handsome face and dark eyes and the far too flattering fit of his uniform. Keith could have gotten over that easily enough if he wasn’t also so kind. Decisive and reasonable. Encouraging and complimentary to the cadets. A master at the controls of any craft. And, on occasion, a huge nerdy dork.

He was also a few years ahead of the new recruits and had recently graduated to being faculty, which only made his appeal that much stronger: the teacher everyone had a crush on.

“What do you want?” Keith grumbled, never that great at picking up social niceties.

Shirogane took it in perfect stride and grinned, sheepish, reaching back to scratch a hand over his neck.

“Oh. I just wanted to introduce myself, and say good work today. That was really something.”

“Thanks, Captain—”

“Shiro.” He smiled, waving away the need for titles.

“Shiro.”

Keith said it slowly. Deliberately. Testing how it felt.

“You’re a first year, right? I hope with skills like that you’re aiming to go through the pilot program.”

“Yeah,” said Keith, sinking a little lower in his posture.

Contrarily, Shiro lit up.

“Great! Then I’ll look forward to working with you.”

Shiro patted his shoulder with a promising parting smile as he eased around him to continue on to wherever it was he’d been going.

Keith watched him go, gripping the strap of his backpack a little tighter and swallowing against a sudden tightness in his throat.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

*****

Keith woke up to the sound of alarms still going off and coughing on the smoke that drifted up through the control consoles. He waved a hand in front of him to clear his vision, but the smoke kept coming. The lights sparked, flickered, and went out. His eyes stung and watered and it was only through feel that he found the manual override beside his seat that popped open the hatch. He undid his harness and half fell, half stumbled out into cool, clean air and bright sunlight.

For a moment he rested, collapsed down onto his knees and head bowed forward against the sand. He closed his eyes and breathed until his heart slowed down. Until he could take a deep breath without coughing.

He sat up, and looked back over his shoulder.

Red didn’t look good. Not that he expected anything different. The lion lay half in, half out of the water on what looked like a stretch of beach. Gleaming golden sand curled off in both directions to form an inlet, sunlight sparkling off the waves and trees drawing a thick line a distance up the shore. It was a beautiful place. Ideal for a tropical vacation.

Too bad he was alone. Stranded. With nothing in sight that looked like any kind of civilization.

And Red was on fire.

“No no no…!” Keith scrambled up and ran back to the lion at the sight of flames licking out the open hatch in the mouth. There wasn’t much he could do except try to splash some sea water on it. Maybe seal it shut and vent the oxygen from inside. But as he drew close something caught – maybe an interior fuel line – and a burst of fire erupted from the lion’s mouth like some fearsome dragon. Keith stumbled from the heat and tripped, landing on his back in the shallows just as a wave washed up and over him.

He screamed a sound of useless frustration and tore off his helmet, throwing it as hard as he could. It bounced harmlessly off of Red’s shoulder and away, landing in the water, where it bobbed in the surf.

Keith slumped forward, his arms limp over his knees, and let his head hang.

This…this was bad. He was alone. He had no idea where the others were, or if they were even in range to contact. With the sort of distances those wormholes jumped, they could have been deposited anywhere. Maybe even the other side of the galaxy. Coran had said something about having no control over their destination right before they were separated. Keith was alone and stranded and there was nothing he could do except watch the fire burn itself out or until the internal extinguishers activated inside the lion. If they were even still working.

Keith took a few deep breaths. He closed his eyes, and ground the palm of one hand into them until he saw stars.

“Okay,” he said to himself, refocusing. “Okay…calm down. Keep it together. Panicking doesn’t help anything.”

Hunk probably wouldn’t agree.

Keith got up. He brushed wet sand and mud from his uniform as he waded into the shallows to retrieve his helmet. He picked it up and turned it over, shaking out excess water before getting a look at the inside.

It looked mostly still intact. The visor was cracked, but he could still hear static when he put it back on and adjusted the internal comm.

“Hey,” he said, breathing to keep the shakiness out of his voice. The adrenaline was starting to wear off. “H-Hey…anybody there? Can anyone hear me? It’s Keith. Is everyone else alright? Shiro? Coran? Pidge?”

Nothing. There was only static.

Keith switched off the input. He took the helmet off and tucked it under his arm, leaving his side shut down to conserve power but keeping the receiving end open…just in case.

He trudged back up the beach to reassess the situation.

Beach and trees as far as he could see in either direction until the land curved out of sight. Ocean ahead. The sky was clear. What looked like mountain peaks further inland that he could just make out over the canopy, though they were faint and far away.

Red was still on fire, but it looked like whatever had caused the big burst was burning out quickly.

He still had his bayard. That was something.

Keith looked up at the sky, sighing heavily as he let his shoulders sag. He stayed that way for a long moment, listening to the waves. Looking at the clouds. Watching as some kind of bird flew by overhead. Letting his mind settle.

What would Shiro do?

 _Not throw a tantrum,_ he answered for himself. He tightened his jaw and took his helmet in both hands, turning it to look at his reflection in the visor.

A little scuffed and scorched, but nothing was missing. He felt through his hair to make sure he hadn’t acquired any bleeding head wounds in the crash.

Nothing. He was fine. Red had taken the brunt of the damage.

The pang of guilt showed on Keith’s face as he looked back to the collapsed lion, unmoving and eyes dark. Wisps of smoke trailing between its joints. So far all the lions – Hunk’s especially – had shown a toughness and resilience for their robotic appearance that anything back on Earth didn’t even begin to approach. Ships and vehicles back home…they were fragile. If they even banged up against each other a little they would be damaged. But these lions…they were something else.

The signs of battle were all over Red’s exterior: dents and scuffs and scratches and scorchmarks. Not bad at all considering the beating they were put through. The hull must have still been intact, or else he wouldn’t have made it as far as he did.

Keith shook his head, reminded again of how amazing Voltron and its components really were.

He put his helmet back on and sealed the visor so he wouldn’t breathe in any smoke as he went back inside.

*****

Martial arts hadn’t been his idea.

First year gone. Second year. The piloting curriculum at the Garrison went by like a breeze. It came naturally to Keith; he couldn’t explain it. He’d never felt a great desire when he was young to be a pilot. What seemed like common sense and instinct to him were things other students spent weeks studying, pouring over books and operating manuals.

More reasons why he didn’t have any friends.

He didn’t think he was arrogant about it, or lorded his talent over any of them, but Keith had never been very good with people. Most of his classmates were jealous, or envious, keeping their distance and rolling their eyes whenever he walked into a room. There were a few who were more positive about it, simply using him as a goal to keep chasing after. Then there was the other extreme: the clingers-on and awkward crushes who thought he was the most amazing thing in the world.

He avoided all of them.

He didn’t _want_ friends, and when Shiro suggested martial arts, it seemed like a good extracurricular to get into…and to reinforce his alienation from the rest of his peers.

It turned out he was good at that, too.

Though Shiro still tossed him around the mat like a playtoy in the sessions before he’d learned exactly what he was doing. Keith had insisted he not go easy on him.

“You’re ambidextrous?” Shiro noted when Keith kept switching his leading hand. “That’s a good advantage.”

He swept Keith’s legs and Keith went down, Shiro locking him into a pin.

“Just remember,” he panted, the both of them sweat-damp and out of breath, “it’s about awareness of your own body. Whatever happens, it’s natural. Let it happen naturally.”

Keith frowned, comprehension completely evading him even as he lay on the floor with Shiro on top of him locking his arms and pressing his legs apart.

It took him awhile to realize Shiro was attempting to flirt.

*****

The good news was that the extinguishers were still intact. Keith activated them manually and they put out the rest of the fires inside the lion. The bad news was that the damage was already done: black scorches and warped metal decorated Red’s interior. The pilot’s seat in the cockpit had collapsed, and the control panels across the console were all but melted from the heat. Keith had no idea what could have caused the big explosion – most Altaen tech seemed crystal-based – but whatever flammable substance it had caught had done its work. Running diagnostics was out of the question. He would have to check things over manually to see what fuel he’d lost and how much he could salvage.

And yet, Red wasn’t…dead. It was the only thing that kept Keith from complete despair as he stood inside the lion’s cockpit, surveying the damage. It was bad, warped and twisted and melted beyond recognition, but…he reached out his hand and touched what used to be the main control console, letting his fingertips linger on the foundation.

Even through his gloves, he could…he could _feel_ her. That bond they shared. Red – she was still there.

She? Keith frowned as he thought back, trying to remember if he’d ever thought of his lion as any gender before. Maybe it was just an affectation; it was tradition for pilots to refer to their ships as “she.” Though the more he thought about it, the more it made a certain amount of sense.

Not that it mattered. It was just a ship. It wasn’t male or female.

Though Keith also felt like he knew better than that as he turned away and ducked out of the cockpit.

He salvaged what he could from the interior. The ship had a standard-issue pack of supplies stored in one of its wall panels. He pulled that out, made sure he still had his knife, and found a pack of tools stored in the maintenance bin in case he got brave enough to try repairs himself. He was no Pidge or Hunk, but he’d taken the same basic mechanics and engineering courses back at the Galaxy Garrison as everyone else.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

Keith dumped his supplies out on the sand of the beach and plopped down with his back to Red’s side, leaning up against the metal made warm by the sun as he watched it set lower and lower behind the trees, the sky darkening to a deep burnt orange then blue then purple, and finally black.

Keith tipped up his head, looking to the stars as they emerged.

Unrecognizable constellations. Again.

He sighed.

“I’m sorry, Red,” he mumbled, speaking just under the chorus of nocturnal insects that began their chirping among the dark trees. “It’s my fault we’re here. My fault you’re so banged up. If I hadn’t insisted on fighting Zarkon like that…”

He felt something nudge his thoughts. A playful bat. Like a cat swiping at something.

It made him smile.

“Okay…yeah, I know…you wanted to fight as much as I did…”

For what it was worth, he thought they had done a decent job, considering what they were up against. They held their own for a good long time. Maybe they even surprised the furry purple alien warlord. Besides, what would Zarkon have done if they hadn’t distracted him like that? Gone after the others? He would have gotten Shiro’s lion if Keith hadn’t acted. Then he would have taken them apart even more quickly and horrifically.

_It was what Shiro would have done._

It made Keith feel a little better, turning it over in his memory. They survived. They were here, and they were alive. As long as they were still alive there was still a chance. They could get Red fixed up. They could get off this rock. They could go find the others. He wasn’t going to give up. Tomorrow once it was light again he would scout up and down the beach to see what he could find. Who knew what another day would bring?

He just hoped the others were doing alright.

For now, he closed his eyes and slept, his back to Red’s side and his bayard in his hand.

*****

Third year. Advanced piloting courses. Barely a day went by without a trip to the simulator.

The only day classes were suspended was on G-Day, the anniversary of the day Galaxy Garrison was founded. Students used the excuse to plan parties and cram in to one day all the fun they missed the rest of the year. The faculty arranged a few special events: synchronized piloting demonstrations over the compound with colored exhaust to make pictures; cautionary dramatizations of what to do for various First Contact scenarios; a poll and subsequent fundraiser for Which Faculty Member Should Kiss A Goat.

The day ended with fireworks and a massive cookout.

Keith and Shiro watched from one of the campus building rooftops, alone with their hotdogs and burgers.

“I don’t know about you,” said Shiro, looking up as colored explosions lit the sky. “But I can not _wait_ for First Contact.”

Keith blinked aside at him, sipping on a soda.

He slid the straw out of his mouth.

“You think there really are aliens out there?”

“Absolutely.” Shiro nodded without hesitation. His easy smile tugged up one corner of his mouth. The light of stars and fireworks caught in his eyes.

Keith did his best to pretend he wasn’t staring.

“It’s ridiculous to think that the universe is as big as it is and we’re the only ones in it.”

Keith blinked, then followed Shiro’s look upward, caught up as usual by the conviction and sheer belief in his voice. Shiro had that effect on people. It was one of the things that made him such an effective leader: he had a way of making people want to believe him – to believe in him – and do the best they could by him. He made them want to try harder just so they could live up to the shining example he set.

At least, that was how Keith felt.

“Don’t you think?” Shiro glanced aside to him, that adorable lopsided smile of his somehow never losing its boyishness.

“I guess,” Keith shifted his stance, crossing one boot over the other. “Never really thought about it.”

He paused.

“What do you think they’re like?”

“Probably a lot like us.” Shiro leaned his weight against the rooftop ledge, folding his hands over the concrete top. “Sitting around. Looking at the stars. Wondering if there are other people out there too. You know, the way we broadcast our TV and radio waves, they aren’t limited to just Earth. They can keep going and going through space without ever stopping. Maybe someone out there has picked up on that, and they already know all about us.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. They made a movie about that a few decades ago. I forgot what it was called…”

“That means alien sitcoms will be just like ours,” Keith groaned. “We’re a bad influence.”

They both laughed. The movement jostled them closer together so that their arms touched. They stopped long enough to look at each other as another wave of fireworks burst overhead, painting the scene in bright yellow. Then green. Then red.

The look on Shiro’s face sobered. Keith was sure his did the same, distracted from all other thought by watching the lights flicker in the depths of his eyes.

It felt natural to lean in closer to him. To tip his head up.

Shiro did the same, and they met in the middle, eyes closed and the sound of explosions growing distant. Cheers from the ground fading into a far away world.

It was a good first kiss: soft, gentle, unobtrusive. Timid at first but quickly growing bolder as they explored. When they felt the other respond. Slip in closer instead of pulling away.

And, like all good first kisses, it left them wanting more.

The firework show went on, ending with a triumphant finale of golden sparks and a fanfare of thunderous explosions.

Neither of them noticed.


End file.
